


Revenge for Singapore

by maderr



Category: James Bond (Movies), MacGyver (TV)
Genre: Crossover Pairing, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:35:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maderr/pseuds/maderr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Bond and MacGyver have a game they like to play</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revenge for Singapore

**Author's Note:**

> Old, old, silly fic of mine that I never posted outside of LJ. I love James Bond, and the idea of him and MacGuyver interacting came to me and some friends :3 They made me write it. I hope peeps enjoy reading it, or are at least amused ^_^
> 
> I never write with a specific Bond in mind. I figure everyone prefers to pick their own flavor :3

Smut

James realized a heartbeat too late he wasn't alone.

He reacted a half-second too late, did not see his assailant, but knew before the world had stopped spinning who had gotten the jump on him.

As much as he hated it – and oh how he did hate – there was only one person who moved so quietly, so carefully, that not even Bond ever heard him coming.

"Duct tape?" he asked drolly as his arms were attached with rather impressive thoroughness to the chair. He smirked as Mac came around and then knelt to fasten his feet to the chair legs. "You haven't done that since our first time."

Mac ignored him, but that was alright – Bond had always been the talker of the two of them. "I heard the Americans had sent someone. Didn't realize they'd sent you. Guess you finally got out of Singapore…" Yes, he'd been quite satisfied, in a number of ways, with his time in Singapore.

Mac stood up and tore off another strip of tape. With a smirk of his own, he slapped it over Bond's mouth. "I bet it took you ages to get out of that," he said, referring to the first time he'd used duct tape on James, then tossed the duct tape on the bed and moved closer. He reached out and pressed the tape more firmly down on Bond's mouth.

Bond quirked a brow, tilting his head.

"You're right, this isn't my thing," Mac said easily, fingers sliding to Bond's shirt. "But I owe you for Singapore." He undid the buttons one by one, pinching and tugging at skin as he went, knowing _exactly_ where to touch.

It really was most fascinating, the way Mac seemed to absorb information. Bond would never admit it, except _maybe_ under threat of castration, but it really did fascinate. They were both quite good at improvisation, but Mac did it…differently.

Of course, the taping his mouth was going to result in serious retribution. That was a new low, even for Mac. A moment later Mac's mouth joined his oh-so-clever hands on James' skin, and most of James mind could focus only on that. But he was a double oh seven, and not that easily defeated, however. As talented as Mac was, it did not stop the part of James' mind that began to plot revenge.

Then his cock was squeezed through his pants and thoughts of revenge were shelved for the moment. It drove him positively mad that this man had such an effect upon him, an effect that women and men had not had for more years than he liked counting.

From the gleam in those sharp eyes, the bastard knew it too. James still wanted to know where anyone got away with calling him arrogant when Mac could give him lessons. Just because the man was remarkably unflashy for an American didn't mean he wasn’t still a Yankee through and through.

Then Mac abruptly stopped, stepping back a couple of feet, hands resting lightly on his hips. "To think how many people want you dead. I don’t get why they have so much trouble killing you. Duct tape is obviously your weakness. I should sell that information, I could finally retire."

James rolled his eyes. Like Mac would ever do that. He'd sooner turn to villainy. Now there was a satisfying thought—Mac as bad guy, and James ordered to take him down. Yes, that was a lovely thought. Oh, the games that could be played under that little fantasy.

He glared as Mac continued simply to stand there, so hard he hurt and thoroughly displeased he could neither tend the matter himself nor order Mac to see to it for him. The revenge he exacted for the gagging was going to be exquisite. Mac was going to scream. After he begged for an hour. Or two. Oh, yes. That would do quite nicely.

At some point he would have to sit down and figure out how exactly that one mission had turned into this game of theirs…but right now he'd much rather Mac quit standing there and do something about the hard-on for which he was responsible. James had actually been working and—

Bloody hell. If Mac was continuing their game, that meant Mac had beaten him to the sapphire.

Hmm.

James readjusted his revenge slightly.

He'd just begun to work on the duct tape when Mac finally moved close again. James watched as those deft fingers undid Mac's jeans, pushed everything out of the way, showing off that cock—cut and long and fine, and more than a little responsible for that awkward situation in New Zealand.

M was still making him pay for that.

Still, Singapore…ah, that had been one of his finest schemes.

He cursed as the tape was torn away from his mouth, but wasn't able to get a retort out before he had that cock in his mouth, a hand in his hair guiding him, and James would complain about Mac being pushy except he knew for a fact Mac only got this pushy, this aggressive, when James provoked him.

It almost made him proud.

Sucking, licking, using the slightest hint of teeth until Mac yanked hard on his hair, he worked that cock with every bit of skill acquired over his rather colorful career, humming smug satisfaction at the noises he drew from Mac, knowing from the way he jerked and thrust that he was definitely getting the better of Mac for the moment.

A hoarse, muffled cry was his only warning before Mac shot, and James took it all down, letting the softening cock slide slowly from his mouth. He started to speak—but then duct tape was once more slapped over his mouth.

He glared.

Mac grinned. "I rather like you this way, Bond. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner." He moved forward again and bent over the chair, one hand braced on the back, right beside James' head, the other dropping to fondle him through his pants and if he didn't do more than tease soon James really was going to kill him.

Or reenact Bermuda. By the time they were finished there, Mac had not been able to walk comfortably for a bit. James would have smirked at the memory if he'd been able.

"I'm waiting for someone to contact me," Mac said easily. "Have to lay low until they do. Won't be contacting me for at least five hours, possibly not eight. Very likely eight." He squeezed hard, and James would have made an unseemly noise if he'd been able. "Think you can handle that much revenge, double oh seven?"

James glared and muttered every profanity he could think, truly hating duct tape.

His only consolation was that he knew Mac wasn’t cruel – just an especially infuriating Yankee. He wouldn't be so mean as to leave James suffering that long.

But oh, if Mac was still this riled about Singapore…wherever they next met…oh, yes. The things he would do.


End file.
